Chapter 27

Grace stayed indoors for three days.

During those three days, she did nothing but paint.

Pain, sorrow, anger–too many bad emotions poured out of Grace onto the blank canvases.

“Camille, are you doing okay in Becrenga? I dried some oranges and grapefruits for you and packed them up. Andy will send them over soon. I heard Osmal City was really dry, so remember to drink tea often to soothe your throat. I’m praying for you here in Clastein.”

In the darkness, only the faint glow of her phone screen lit up

the room.

It was a voice message from her landlady, Mary Clayton. Grace curled up on the floor, listening to it over and over.

“Mom,” Grace murmured unconsciously.

Truthfully, all her understanding of the word “mother” came from this middle–aged woman far away in Clastein.

She missed the chamomile–scented warmth of Mary’s hands, the mouth–puckeringly sour codfish with tomato sauce, the sun–dried but still colorful fruits…

The doorbell rang.

thick blanket,

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288 Vouchers

she’d never met

together?” Grace frowned.

shook his head. “No. This is Mrs. Parrish’s lawyer. I’m here on Mr. Kaufman’s

seemed they wouldn’t give up until

didn’t shut the door

two bottles of expensive water

men.

it is, make it quick.” Grace sat cross–legged on the sofa, her

gift for 45.7% of the Parrish Group’s shares, originally belonging to Mrs. Parrish and Ms. Naomi Parrish. There’s also

and Ms. Naomi asked me to convey that they knew these things meant little to you, but this was their way of making amends. Whether you accept them or not,

Mrs. Parrish but even Naomi gave up

also pulled out a thick stack

Parrish, these are all the assets of

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a frown. “What do you mean? Is Mr. Kaufman also stepping down?”

Simon hesitated, unsure how to

voice came from the

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